


Things That Are Broken...

by Sarcasm_Is_My_First_Language



Category: Now You See Me (2013)
Genre: Family Feels, Gen, Hurt Jack, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-03-20 17:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 18,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3658914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarcasm_Is_My_First_Language/pseuds/Sarcasm_Is_My_First_Language
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...Can Always Be Fixed"<br/>SLIGHT AU: What would happen is circumstances were a bit different for the youngest horseman? If life was a bit more difficult, if he'd turned out just a little more broken... From First Sightings, to First Meetings, through pain and injury and love and family... Meet Jack Wilder and the family fate chose for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Sighting - J. Daniel Atlas

James Daniel Atlas was 13 the first time he saw him. Walking through Central Park on a holiday with his parents, he was anxious to find the Lionel Shrike tree. He wanted to be a magician and had been learning magic since he got his first deck of cards for his birthday that year. He wanted to be an illusionist. A showman. One of the greatest magicians the world had ever seen. When the Shrike tree was in sight, James didn't wait for his parents, he raced ahead to the landmark. He stopped a few feet before it and stared in awe at the card encased in glass. His focus was entirely on the tree, until something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

A young boy sat alone on the grass just a little way from the Shrike tree. He was small and young, 5 at the most. Dressed in a thin shirt and a small pair of shorts with a worn blanket tossed around his shoulders, his brown-haired head was bent to the ground. The boy was playing with the grass in front of his crossed leg and no one paid him any attention as they just walked past him. No one except James. Almost as though he felt the stare, the boy looked up and James couldn't hold back his gasp. The boy's face was covered in bruises, dried blood and cuts. His brown eyes were sad and tired, but turned to panic as he noticed someone observing him. And observe him James did. He looked at the boy's bruised face, the way the t-shirt seemed to hang off him as he dropped the blanket in shock, the spattering of injuries along his arms and legs and the despondent nature with which he sat on the grass. But in full view of the hundreds of people walking in Central Park, no one stopped to pay any attention to him. No one offered him money or a trip to the hospital and it was in moments like that that James Daniel Atlas saw how cruel the world really was.

"Are you ready to go James?" his mother asked him as they finally caught up to him at the base of the Shrike tree. James fingered the packet of cards he had in his pocket, the ones he never let out of his sight.

"Yeah," James slowly replied, pulling his stare away from the boy and watching as the boy looked almost saddened and relieved at the removal of attention on him. "Let's go this way," James suggested as he gestured to the right of the tree in the direction of the boy. His parents walked ahead of him, holding each other's hands and James watched in disbelief as his loving, wonderful parents walked right past the young boy that they obviously saw, without giving him a second glance. James again saw how cruel the world could be.

He followed after his parents and walked past the boy with the brown hair and the sad eyes. The boy looked up as James passed because as he did so, two things occurred. The first, a hand was gently and tenderly ran through his hair, causing the boy to gasp at the contact. The second was a weight falling into his lap. Chubby 5-year old hands scurried to pick up the object. A pack of cards rested in his hands. The boy squealed in the way young children do and he rushed to open the pack of cards. He dare not pull them out in case he dropped them. He knew what happened to bad boys who dropped cards. But there was something in the pack that wasn't a card. A folded sheet of paper rest in the pack and the boy pulled it out careful not to disturb the cards. Once the paper was removed, he un-folded it. He slowly read the words on the top of the page, whispering them out loud. "A... Guide… To… Magic," he read in his small voice, making sure he read the words carefully. "The... Closer… You… Look… The… Less… You… See… Li-Li-Lionel… Shrike."

And that day in Central Park, James Daniel Atlas witnessed something truly magical from where he had convinced his parents to sit and watch the world go by while he played in the grass. A smile gracing the face of a 5-year old boy for the first time in 5 years.


	2. First Sighting - Henley Reeves

Henley Reeves was done up to the nines as she gracefully walked through Central Park. She had sweet-talked her parents into letting her explore the city while they handled their business. Henley had, after convincing them, dressed herself immaculately before leaving their hotel. Her dress was boutique, her blazer was cashmere and her gloves were of the finest black leather. She had to say she was, or at least she thought she was, the most glamorous looking 14 year-old New York City had ever seen.

The first item on her agenda in her day of exploring was, of course, in Central Park. The Lionel Shrike tree. She'd heard about the famous treetrickand the card encased in glass. It was on Henley's must-see list for New York sights.

She'd always had a small (and embarrassing) fascination with magic. She remembered bringing it up to her parents once, saying she wanted to be the greatest magicians the world would ever see. Her parents had quickly banished the idea, saying she must follow them into business. They told her off for having such a childish fantasy. She told them she'd dismissed the idea, but childish dreams are stubborn and it lived on inside her heart. It flowed to the front of her mind now as she stood, finally, before the tree. She stared at it before something in the corner of her eye made her stare. Sitting on some grass off the path on the right side of the tree was a boy.

He had his brown-haired head down as he concentrated on the pack of cards in his hands, shuffling them quickly. He had a blanket filled with holes draped across his lap and the clothes he wore were dirty and hung loosely off his frame. Henley stared at the boy, noticing that no one who walked by him paid him even a second of attention. Almost as though he noticed someone was actually giving him the time of day, he looked up and his brown eyes met Henley's. Her hands flew up to her mouth in shock.

The boy's face was pale, covered in bruise and cuts. His face was gaunt and his brown eyes were dull. He looked seconds away from dropping dead. His cheekbones stood out and to Henley he seemed as though he hadn't eaten a good meal in a very long time.

Henley looked quickly around the boy and at the flows of people that wandered by him and walked straight passed him without giving him a second glance. How could they just walk by the boy when he obviously needed help? Henley wouldn't stand for it. She gave the boy one last look before she walked quickly off. She had something to do.

She missed the sad look of the boy as he once again turned his attention to the cards in his hands, trying to forget the girl with the red hair. Just another person who left him.

Henley returned to Central Park an hour later. She ignored the sights and the sounds and weaved her way through the masses not touching a single one in the way that only females could. She walked straight through the park to the Shrike Tree and to the boy sitting on his own. She held her head up and walked towards him. He hadn't noticed her just yet, but as she got to just two metres away, he looked up at her, amazed.

Henley stopped in front of him, crouched down and dropped the messenger bag she carried with her into his lap. She reached a hand out and tenderly squeezed his for only a second, and then she stood up and walked off.

The boy sat there in amazement. He quickly shook himself out of his reverie and looked to the bag in his ap. He quickly but carefully packed up his cards and his tiny hands dove for the bag. He flipped it open to rifle through the contents. Inside sat a boxed-up steaming meal, a bottle of juice and a bottle of water, a small paperback book and a crisp $100 bill.

For the first time in a year, a large genuine smile graced his young face. Or at least he did, because paying attention; the boy saw the sun was beginning to set. Sighing, he pulled himself up, packed his blanket and his cads into his new bag and pulled out the container of food and the fork it came with. Walking slowly and eating the first proper meal he'd had in a while, the boy began his trek through the city, resigning himself to his fate.

 


	3. First Sighting - Merritt McKinney

Merritt sighed as he walked through Central Park. It was an iffy day for the mentalist. His brother – his jackass brother – had run off with all his money. His entire life had been stolen from him in just a day and one note with three words.  _I'm not sorry_. So yes… not a good day for Merritt McKinney.

He knew he had nothing left. He knew that his glory days were over. He knew that he had no more TV specials, no more tours, and no more home. So he took a few moments of tranquillity before the shit storm hit.

He wandered Central Park, scanning the crowds and using his talent. Mentalism. Not a proven science, but it sure as hell was  _magic_. With one glance, Merritt got at least a basic glance at a person's life. Divorced lawyer. Having an affair. Mother of three. Grieving husband. Twins, no… triplets. He could read a person just with a glance. He loved his gift, his gift he'd had from a young age. A talent that he and his brother saw as an opportunity. But his gift had its downsides. He saw a glance… and then he wanted more. And then he didn't always like what he found.

Like now for instance.

He was walking by the Lionel Shrike tree. He didn't spare it a glance. He'd seen it before, though he did smile a small smile when he passed under its branches. He went to keep walking as he passed under the tree, or at least he would've if someone in the corner of his eye hadn't caught his attention.

The boy was 6, no, 7 years old. His brown hair was dirty and matted, hanging limp on his head. The jagged edges would suggest that the boy had cut it himself. He sat with his knees curled up to his chest, his arms hanging limply by his sides and he had a bag string on the ground next to him. Merritt stopped in front of him, but the boy didn't notice. His bruise and injury filled face with lifeless brown eyes was simply staring ahead, not paying any attention to his surroundings. In turn, no one paid any attention to him. Merritt could see the boy was glad of that as he glanced and got a basic reading.

Tired. Un-healthy. Under fed. Catatonic. One abusive parent. That much was obvious.

"Mother or father?" The voice was quiet and had the boy's eyes slowly gaining a glimmer of life as they slowly looked to the man in front of him.

The flinch was barely imperceptible, but it was there. "Ok so father." Merritt wished he could take his need for knowledge and suffocate it, but he just couldn't.

"Mother. Divorced, working, missing, dead, abandon-"Flinch.

"You never knew your mother." The boy's eyes were filled with sadness as he simply looked at the man who was reading his life.

"So you're a 7 year-old boy with no mother, and abusive father who's sleeping," Merritt shook his head. "Spending the day in Central Park."

"I feel sorry for you kid." The statement had a frown filling the boy's face.

"Why?" the choked whisper was quiet and Merritt barely heard it. The boy's voice was young; he was forced to grow up so fast that he really hadn't grown up at all.

"Because someone else'll be coming for you soon enough." Again, the b9ooy frowned, confused. Though his expression filled with fear as he heard a shout echo through Central Park, as did a lot of its occupants who finally seemed to pay attention to the trembling boy who was on his feet with his bag slung across his back, trembling.

"BOY!" Merritt took three steps back. He'd analysed this. He's seen the people already, the ones who were hiding. He knew already how this would play out.

"What are you doing here?!" The man staggered towards the boy, drunk as anything, "What the FUCK are you doing here?!"

"I-I-I," the boy sputtered as he was picked up by the neck of his t-shirt. How thin he was became painfully obvious to Merritt.

"You think you can just FUCKING RUN?! You think you can just FUCKING HIDE?!" The man was oblivious to the movements around his as he dropped the boy and slapped his hard across the face. "You are MY SON AND YOU WILL DO WHAT I TELL YOU! I TOLD YOU TO NEVER LEAVE THE HOUSE! AND WHAT DO YOU FUCKING DO?!"

The boy made no sound and he was again slapped. "WHAT DID YOU FUCKING DO?!"

"I left the house," was the eventual reply.

"You did," said the man as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. He began to drive it down towards the boy. "YOU USELESS FUCKING PIECE OF-"

" _FREEZE YOU'RE UNDER ARREST!"_

The man was tackled to the ground by three police officers. He struggled as they handcuffed him quickly, yelling dirt to his son who had collapsed to the ground, tears running down his face as soon as the police had arrived.

Merritt watched on silently, looking at the kid and the woman that approached him. "Hello there," she said kindly as she crouched by him. He flinched away from her. "I'm Miss. Edwards; I'm with the foster service. We need to take you to the police station for a few questions but after that we can get you put into a new home with a new family. Would you like that?"

The boy stayed silent and he allowed himself to be pulled up by the woman, showing how light he was. The woman began leading him off and not once did the kid look back at Merritt. Though Merritt's eyes followed the kid. He was going to be killed in the foster system. Absolutely killed.

But then he saw the kid reach into the pocket of a shocked observer and pull out a wallet, quickly slipping it into his own bag. Neither the man nor Miss. Edwards noticed.

Merritt smiled as he walked away. The kid was gonna be just fine.

 


	4. First Meeting

It had been three years since that day. The day his parent had died while they were on holiday in New York. His father had been hit by a car as he crossed the road and his mother… well his mother had gone to the chemist and swallowed a bottle of pills only an hour after his father had been pronounced dead. It was not the best way to end one's holiday. It was because of those thoughts and memories that as he walked through Central Park, he reflected on his life. James Daniel Atlas, age 13, had died the same day as his parents. Now stood J. Daniel Atlas, age 16, preferably called Daniel or Danny. Orphan. Emancipated. Magician.

Daniel now wished he had his playing cards. His favourite playing card she'd gotten for his birthday all those years ago. But they were gone now, given to a boy who needed them more than he did. Ever since he'd given his cards to the kid and run his hand through his brown hair, he'd always been in the back of Daniel's minds. Daniel worried for a boy he had never known. But know as he walked through Central Park, he coldly realised that the boy was probably dead. He could see he was weak when he was a small kid. Three years on from now… the kid was definitely dead. Daniel sighed as he walked along the path and took a seat on a bench around a specific tree. The Lionel Shrike tree. He was tempted to look to his left, to gaze upon the patch of ground where the kid sat, but he stopped himself. There was no need, it would be empty.

Sighing, Daniel turned his gaze to the stretch of grass opposite him. It was filled with smiling couples and happy families. Something he used to have. But then something caught his eye. The grass was crowded but sneaking in between the people deftly was a small figure. A small figure whose light and nimble fingers were reaching into pockets and around wrists and hands to claim the prizes that lay there. Daniel chuckled at the sight. The kid, whose back was to him, was good. Not one person noticed his sticky fingers. Daniel was about to look away and forget about what he saw when the kid turned around. Brown hair and brown eyes. Daniel gasped. There was no way that that…

It couldn't be. Daniel shook his head. The kid he helped was small and sickly and hungry and abused and not likely to survive. But there was no mistaking those eyes. Eyes that Daniel had thought about for years. Even from a short distance and with three years without looking at him, Daniel recognised the little boy who he'd given hope. Son of a bitch.

And just to prove his identity, the boy walked away from the crowd and sat down in his spot on the edge of the path. He put all his stolen goods into a messenger bag which hung from his side and then pulled out a deck of cards. A  _very_  familiar deck of cards. Daniel chuckled breathily. Son of a bitch.

The boy carefully removed the cards from the pack and began to shuffle them. He was quite skilled Daniel noticed, his full attention on the boy as he shuffled round the bench to get a better view of the kid. Daniel recognised the tricks from the piece of paper that had rested inside the card packet and smiled when he noticed some that weren't held on it. Being a magician himself – he'd started performing on streets at the start of this year – he saw the slight stumbling in the kid's movements when he performed the more difficult tricks. But that was understandable. Judging by his pick pocketing skills, the kid would be a sleight, not an illusionist.

As Daniel mused, the kid stood up. Quickly putting his deck of cards away in his bag, he searched the ground and found three sticks. He walked a little way away from his spot and planted them in the ground. Then he went and sat back down. Daniel frowned, totally confused. What the hell was the kid doing?!

But then the kid pulled out a different pack of cards, drew three out and quick as lightning, threw them.

All three sticks were sliced in half.

Daniel's jaw dropped a centimetre. That was… amazingly impossible. How did the kid even do that?!

Daniel in the next second struggled with an idea in his head, trying to figure out if he should do it or just move on and start a magic show on the other side of the park to get some more money. But then Daniel steeled himself, and stood. And then he walked towards the boy and stood behind him.

The little boy was still sat on the grass, facing the sticks he'd sliced in half. He was getting better, and a corner of his mouth turned up for a second before it drooped again. Staring at the ground, he saw the shadows fall over him and tensed himself, ready to attack whoever was behind him in an instant. But then he felt a hand run itself softly through his hair. He gasped at the familiar feeling. The familiar weight on his head. The familiar rush of warmth that it bought. Without ingle thought to warn him against it, the boy stood up quickly and threw himself at the body behind him. Little arms wound their way around a waist and clung to a jacket, un-willing to let go. A face was smooshed into a stomach and the boy vaguely above him heard a quiet laugh.

The force of the boy's hug forced Daniel to take a step back and he quietly laughed. The boy was smooshing his face into Daniel's stomach so he took the hand that rested on the boy's head and began to card his fingers through the boy's brown hair. A smile graced his features at the feelings the boy stirred within him and he revelled in it, though only for a moment as the boy quickly pulled back, taking a few steps away from him and looking down to the ground. Thankfully, Daniel sighed relieved, he didn't make a run for it.

"That's a uh- pretty neat trick you did before with the cards." Daniel crouched down to be at the boy's height. The boy astutely looked down at his feet, hands clutching the strap of his messenger bag."I've never seen anyone before who could do that."

"Really?" the voice that answered him was small and child-like. It clenched at Daniel's heart.

"Really," Daniel answers the boy. "You've got a real talent for doing that."

There was silence for a moment before a quiet, "Thanks," fills the space between them.

"Can I ask you a question kiddo?" Daniel took the silence as an affirmative. "Why do you still practice those card tricks?"

Silence. Daniel forged on. "They're not your talent. You're a sleight not an illusionist. So why do you still practice with them?"

"Because," the boy looked up at Daniel with nervous, puppy-dog brown eyes. "I wanna be the most famous magician who ever lived."

Daniel smiled softly at the boy and reached a hand up, running it over the kid's head. Daniel smiled when the kid discreetly tried to nuzzle his palm, soaking in the precious moments of affection he could. "What's your name kiddo?"

The boy bit his lip, wondering whether he should trust this stranger. "Jack," he finally answered. "I'm Jack Wilder."

"Well Jack Wilder," Daniel held a hand out. "I'm J. Daniel Atlas. It's nice to finally meet you."

Jack smiled a smile, the first one in two years and shook Daniel's hand shyly.

"You know," Daniel muses, sitting down in the grass. Jack did the same only a second later. Sitting cross-legged their knees just brushed each others'. "I'm a magician."

"Really?!" Jack gasped, eyes filled with wonder.

"Really," Daniel nodded and then stopped. Was he really about to make this offer? He couldn't do this? Could he? But then Daniel looked into those eyes and he knew that yes… of course he could.

"Jack." Daniel leant forward to look Jack in the eye. "Would you like to come with me?"

"Go where?" Jack's voice was wary.

"Anywhere," Daniel answered easily. "You can come and live with me and we'll learn magic and we can," Daniel tried to find the right words. "We can get away Jack. You wouldn't have to live here in the Park. You wouldn't have to steal. You could have a life Jack and a house and a bed and a meal every night."  _And a family._

Jack stayed silent when Daniel was talking, frowning down at the ground and biting his lip in thought. He'd never had a family before, but the last time he'd lived somewhere all it bought him was pain and ouchies. But he got hurt where he was now too. Big bullies trying to beat him up and doing it when he couldn't fight them off enough. He was wary of Daniel, he didn't trust people. People just hurt you. But then he remembered when Daniel had helped him. The cards falling into his lap and the hand in his hair.

Jack looked up at Daniel, still worrying his lip. "Will you look after me?" Daniel looked confused, his thoughts had drifted while he waited for Jack to make his decision. "If I go with you," Jack clarified. "Will you look after me?"

"I promise Jack," Daniel said tenderly as his hand reached up to run through the kid's hair. The tension seemed to melt off Jack. He really liked that. "I will always,  _always_ , look after you."

"Starting now?" The childish question bought a chuckle to Daniel's lips as he stood pulling Jack up with him. He noticed the flinch that ran through Jack when his hands landed on his shoulders, he pretended that it didn't grip at his heart.

"Starting now," Daniel answered reverently and knelt up seconds before Jack threw himself at Daniel again for a tight hug. He could feel the tears running down Jack's face so he pulled Jack into a proper hug with an arm tight around Jack's waist and the other resting on his head and carding through his hair. Jack's arms were tight around Daniel's neck as he buried his head in Daniel's shoulder.

"C'mon kiddo," Daniel quipped as he heaved Jack up and into his arms, settling him on his hip. Jack let out a squeal of surprise and a small laugh. The first laugh in eight years. His hands hung loosely around Daniel's neck and Daniel's own supported Jack's weight. It felt like carrying a toddler. Jack was so underweight."Let's get going."

Daniel felt Jack nod and began walking. Away from Jack's patch of grass (Jack stared back at it). Away from the Lionel Shrike tree. Away from the gates of Central Park and out into the city. Out of the old life and into the new. Daniel smiled to himself… That new life looked pretty good.


	5. First Home

"Here we are Jack."

Daniel Atlas looked to the boy in his arms whose smile had faded as he looked to the apartment building before him. The walk from Central Park to Daniel's building had been silent. Jack had rested in Daniel's arms with a small contented smile on his face. That was until they'd turned a corner into Daniel's street. The closer they got to Daniel's home, the unhappier Jack seemed to be.

"This is my apartment building," Daniel explained to the boy as he carefully bent to put him on the ground. Jack clung to him, reluctant to be put down and let go of the one person in the world who'd bothered to put up with him. Though Daniel was trying to put him down and not doing what people wanted was a bad thing. Jack knew that better than most. So, reluctantly, he let go of Daniel and allowed himself to be placed on the sidewalk.

"C'mon kiddo, let's go," Daniel instructed as he un-locked the door to the building, stepping in and holding it open for Jack. It took him 5 seconds to start moving and walk through the door. Daniel let the door swing shut once he saw Jack was inside and immediately headed towards the stairs. He reached the bottom and looked to his side. He saw nothing. With a sigh and a frown he looked behind him.

Jack was still standing by the door.

"C'mon Jack," Daniel beckoned and Jack began to move. It took his 5 seconds to cross the two metres between him and Daniel. The elder just sighed and began heading up the stairs. He looked behind him every five seconds to make sure Jack was indeed following him. Which he was… very slowly.

But thirty seconds later, Daniel had scaled the three flights of stairs and reached the hallway of his apartment. He waited for Jack to scale the stairs.

On the stairs, Jack put two feet on each step before moving to the next one. Is hands clutched the strap of his bag tightly and his breathe was loud. He was worried. He was trusting this man who'd given him a pack of cards years ago. First he'd hugged him then he'd said he'd go with him. He was nervous. He wondered what was behind the door of the apartment. He knew not to trust anything behind a door. Not the friend's of his… fathers or the foster parents who opened the doors to their homes the minute he took a step on the front porch. He was afraid. He was nervous. He was worried. He was afraid. He was nervous. He was worried. He was afraid. He was… at the top of the stairs.

Daniel sighed in relief and pain. It had only taken Jack three minutes to walk up the stairs. Daniel walked to his door and looked to his side. Then looked behind him. Jack still stood at the top of the stairs. "C'mon Jack," Daniel pleaded and Jack took a slow, hesitant step forwards. Then another. Then another. Till finally, he was at Daniel's side. And then he didn't move at all.

Daniel sighed again. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

He bent down and grasped Jack under the armpits and hitched the tiny 8 year-old onto his hip. Shifting Jack to gain a free hand, he quickly used said free hand to reach into his pocket and pull out his front door key. Still with one hand, he manoeuvred the key into position and slid it into the door, turning the lock with a click. It seemed to echo in the empty hallway. Daniel pushed open the door and stepped inside. Jack's face was hidden in the crook of his neck as Daniel kicked the door closed with his foot.

He gently placed Jack down on the floor of the apartment. It wasn't anything to brag about. It was small and not in the best condition. It had two bedrooms, a kitchen, a lounge and a bathroom. But for Daniel (at the moment), it was home.

Jack stood and looked around the apartment. From his eyes, the apartment was great. He'd never had such a nice place to live. Without him thinking, Jack began to wander round, his feet leading him around the lounge room/kitchen. Though he stayed close to Daniel.

"Welcome home," Daniel said and Jack's head snapped up to look at his. And then he was off. Little legs dashed him around the apartment quickly. He ran into a bedroom, then another, then the bathroom, then back down the short hallway to the lounge, then around the kitchen, then back to Daniel by the front door.

Daniel watched all this with a laugh.

"Home?" Jack asked quietly and Daniel knelt down in front of him. "This is my… home?"

"Yeah Jack," Daniel smiled at the boy softly. "This is your home."

"I've never had a home before." Jack looked down at the ground, frowning as tears welled in his eyes.

"Well now Jack," Daniel used a crooked finger to lift Jack's chin. "You'll never not have a home again. Remember what I promised?" Jack nodded tearily and Daniel's hand reached up of its own accord to wipe Jack's tears and cup his cheek. "I will  _always_  look after you, no matter what, and you will  _always_  have a home with me. I  _promise_."

Tears ran freely now down Jack's face and Daniel pulled him gently into a hug with a hand running through Jack's hair as the young boy sobbed on Daniel's shoulder. Daniel's hand never stopped its movements and he shushed the boy with a quiet voice, pressing a kiss to his temple gently. The pair stayed like this for five minutes and only parted when Jack's body jerking sobs had quieted to hiccups. Daniel extracted the 8 year-old from himself and wiped his tears one more. He smiled when Jack nuzzled into his palm.

"You know the empty bedroom?" Daniel asked Jack who nodded in response. "That's your room now."

"Mine?" Jack gasped and Daniel nodded.

"Yours."

"I've never had a room before," Jack whispered with eyes wide in amazement.

"I know," Daniel nodded, saddened by the statement. "But now you do. You'll always have a room now Jack."

A small smile grew on Jack's face. "So," Daniel said as he stood. "Go put your bag in it while I order dinner. Pizza sound good?"

"Yeah!" The answer barely reached Daniel's ears for Jack was racing away when he said it. Daniel laughed at the enthusiastic voice of the boy before his face faded into that all too familiar sad smile as he pulled out his phone and dialled.

"Hey, can I order a large…"

* * *

While eating their dinner, Daniel had introduced Jack to television – something he hadn't been able to watch much of before. Jack had been very thorough with his questions about the shows that were on, about how the TV worked, about just about everything that he could think of while shoving pizza into his mouth. Which wasn't much as Daniel kept telling him to keep his mouth shut while he was eating and not too talk with his mouth full. Jack had frowned at that.

But once dinner was over, the two settled down to watch a film that was on. Coincidently, it was about magic which Jack had found fascinating right up until he fell asleep. Which was about ten minutes into the film.

Daniel looked down at the child in his lap. After eating, Jack had slid closer to Daniel, sitting only an inch away from him. As the movie began, the inch shrunk to less than a centimetre as Jack laid his head on Daniel's shoulder. Then the centimetre collapsed as jack wriggled to lay his head in Daniel's lap. Only second after he did it, jack had jumped up with apologies spewing out his mouth before Daniel gently grabbed him by the shoulders and laid him down again, this time with an added hand through his hair. Jack had practically purred and it was this soothing motion that had most likely sent the child to sleep.

Daniel would've been content to just stay there with Jack, but he was tired and he knew if he slept sitting upright on his sofa, he'd have a hell of a bad neck in the morning. So, he gently reached down and lifted Jack's head, slid off the sofa and laid it back down again. He watched the boy for a moment, noticing the tenseness which lay in the sleeping form. He probably wasn't used to being safe while he was sleeping, Daniel mused. Probably waiting for the next person to come and hurt him.

Daniel shook his head to clear his thoughts. He bent down and picked up Jack, one hand supporting his bottom and the other cradling his head to his neck. Making sure Jack was secure; he walked slowly to the kid's bedroom where Jack's bag lay on the floor by the bed. Daniel wondered briefly where he'd gotten it from, but ignored the thought train in favour of laying his charge down on the bed. Gently he unwound Jack's arms from around his neck and settled the boy comfortable, pulling the sheets up over him.

Daniel knelt by the bed for a moment and sighed... Again. God he needed to break that habit he thought as he leant forward.

Daniel kissed Jack on the forehead and whispered against his skin, "Welcome home kiddo,"

Then he left, leaving the door ajar as he went to his own room to sleep.

He didn't see as he left Jack smiling with bleary, tired, half-open eyes before he turned over and went to sleep.


	6. Breakdown

It had been a week. 7 days. Well technically six and half days since Jack had come to live with him. Daniel smiled at the thought. It hadn't even been a week and already it felt like this was where Jack belonged. The kid looked better. Six days of three meals per day had out a little meat on his bones. He was no longer pale from spending nights out in the cold and he had a brand new wardrobe of things that a) actually fit him and b) he hadn't stolen. Jack was starting to settle in and Daniel found himself thinking often how he could ever have lived his life without the kid by his side.

Jack had just eaten his second meal of the day. Breakfast had been toast and lunch had been a grilled cheese which Jack had enjoyed thoroughly. Daniel at the moment was sitting on the sofa, reading the newspaper for school and Jack was cleaning u his dishes. Something he insisted on doing on his own. While he did stay with Daniel and let Daniel look after him a little, Jack was very independent. He nearly refused to let Daniel look after him sometimes because all he'd ever known was looking after himself. It was frustrating but Daniel was working on it. Sometimes thought he fact that Jack would just –

_SMASH!_

The sound of breaking glass had Daniel bolting up and to the gap in the kitchen bench – the entrance to the kitchen. There in the middle of the tiles was a broken plate and Jack – curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth in the middle of a pile of broken glass mumbling. It took a second for Daniel to make it out and when he did, his heart broke.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Don't hurt me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Don't hurt me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Don't hurt me. I'm sorry."

Daniel quickly but carefully made his way forward, careful not to step on the broken glass as he stood in front of Jack, bending down to grab the small boy and pull him out of the kitchen.

Or that was the plan at least.

The minute Daniel's hands touched Jack, the kid went crazy. He started to scream, thrashing around and Daniel only just managed to haul him up in time to stop his from rolling onto a large piece of broken plate which surely would've gone straight through his thin torso.

Jack had no idea where he was. He heard a smash. He'd done something wrong and now  _he_  was going to hurt him. But he didn't want to be hurt. He didn't like it when  _he_ made him hurt. He didn't like it. He didn't want to hurt. So he screamed and he cried.

Daniel held the struggling body to his chest, Jack's wayward legs flying into him with harsh kicks. Luckily, Daniel had his arms and head restrained, tucking himself around the smaller boys form. Daniel tried to calm Jack down, speaking to him over the screams, but Jack either couldn't or wouldn't hear him.

A knock sounded at the door, Daniel barely heard it over the noise. But then it knocked again, louder and faster. Daniel wished he could open the door, but with his arms filled with violent, struggling eight year-old he was in no such position. Fortunately, the person at the door let themselves in with a key. Huh, Daniel thought vaguely as he faced the opening door. Must be Mrs. Wallace.

"James," her voice wobbled as she entered the room, speaking loudly to be heard above Jack's noise. "Is everything alright dear?"

Mrs. Wallace was possibly the best neighbour in the world. She lived in the apartment next to Daniel's and had done ever since Daniel had been there. She'd moved in two weeks before he did, shortly after her husband died of lung cancer. She was sweet, kind, and the model grandmother. She baked the best cookies in the world and Daniel didn't know sometimes where he'd be if she wasn't always reminding him to do certain things as he left in the morning to go to school. Which he'd been skipping to look after Jack for the last week.

"Everything's fine Mrs. Wallace," Daniel gasped out, Jack having just placed a very string kick to his thigh.

"Certain James?" Mrs. Wallace asked with a stern frown on her face, string evenly at Daniel even though he was jerking around to try and contain the still steadily screaming Jack.

"Certain," Daniel shouted steadily as he turned his back to the door, trusting Mrs. Wallace to lock it behind her.

"Good luck James," were her parting words as she left the apartment, heading back to her own apartment.

Daniel gritted his teeth as a particularly piercing scream and bucking kick escaped Jack. "Jack you really need to stop screaming!"

Jack didn't listen. His screams were mixed with sobs and yells of gibberish – disjointed words and sounds. Daniel sighed and followed his gut instinct. He let Jack go.

The eight year-old sprang away from him, racing across to the other side of the room. He curled up in the nearest corner and finally his screams and shouts stopped, being replaced with loud body-wracking sobs.

Daniel drops to the ground along with Jack, exhaustion taking hold as the evidence of his effort to restrain the kid washed over him. He just managed to crawl across the room towards Jack; stopping a little was away from him in the corner.

Jack was curled up sobbing, face hidden in his knees. "Jack," Daniel gulped. "It's me. It's Daniel."

There was no reply.

"Jack, can you hear me?"

Nothing but sobs.

"Come back Jack," Daniel pleaded, trying desperately to shake the boy out of his own mind. "You're safe. You're safe."

"I didn't mean to break it. I didn't mean to," Jack sobbed, head still in his knees. "I-I-I-I'm sor-r-ry."

"It's alright Jack, Daniel cooed. "It's alright."

Daniel shuffled closer to Jack, about ten centimetres closer and Jack – not even looking up – gave a yell and flinched away, trying to push himself further back into the wall.

"It's alright Jack," Daniel whispered. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Everyone does," Jack sobbed, teeth clenched. "Everyone hurts me."

"I won't," Daniel shook his head as the reality of Jack's past truly hit him. It was like getting hit by a 4x4. "Remember our promise Jack. Remember our promise." Daniel couldn't help himself. He reached with arms outstretched and grabbed Jack, pulling him into a tight hug because as expected, the minute Daniel touched him, Jack started fighting.

Daniel kept the boy close though and bought a hand up and ran it through Jack's hair.

Jack fell like a puppet with its strings cut. All of a sudden he knew where he was and who was holding him. He remembered the promise and he remembered he was home. Jack sobbed even harder and curled himself up in Daniel's lap, burrowing his head into the sixteen year-olds chest.

And as Jack cried, Daniel too cried, tears silently running down his face. He had the right to. He was still a child himself, even though he acted like an adult. And like all children do, tears bought along tiredness and eyelids began to droop. Jack and Daniel fell asleep, curled up in a corner with tear tracks slowly drying on their faces.

* * *

When Daniel woke up, it was getting dark outside. They must have slept for a few hours. But speaking of they, there was warmth missing from Daniel's lap and arms. He looked down. Jack was gone.

Standing slowly, Daniel worked the kinks out of his neck and padded slowly to the kitchen as one of his hands rubbed across his face, clearing the tear tracks. He stopped in the entrance to the kitchen. The plate was gone. There was no sign of it ever breaking and Daniel frowned.

He quickly walked down the hallway to Jack's room, pushing open the door. There, sitting in the middle of his bed, was Jack. He was practising his sleight and Daniel noticed a plaster on his hand. He must have cut himself picking up the glass, Daniel realised.

Jack looked up when Daniel came into his peripheral vision, and then quickly looked back down, focusing on his tricks. Daniel, knowing what Jack needed, simply walked into the room and sat on the end of the bed. He watched Jack practice in silence, simply giving comfort and apology through mere presence as the two tried to forget the…  _breakdown_  that had occurred.

It didn't matter though if they remembered or not. They never spoke of it again anyway.


	7. Nightmare

The inky black of night leaked through the cracks in the curtains hanging in the window. The moonlight shone through in stripes of bright light, illuminating the room, its bed and its occupant.

Daniel lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He'd gone to bed three hours ago after watching Jack practice for two, stare into space for one and eat for another. He couldn't help but run the events of earlier thorough his head. A non-stop film of horrible sights just for his viewing displeasure. He couldn't get it out of his head.

The heart wrenching screams.

The panicked eyes and the distraught face.

He couldn't get it out of his head.

The brokenness of a little boy.

Daniel felt for the first time in a long time his age. He wasn't an adult. Sure, he acted like one but he was 16. He was  _16_. Still a kid himself no matter how much he pretended otherwise and sometimes… gosh, he didn't know. He turned over onto his side and curled in on himself, allowing his young age to shine through the tough, mature, I'm-an-adult exterior.

Daniel heard a sound and his eyes snapped open from where they'd began to droop shut. He listened and heard nothing. Just his imagination, he thought as he rolled over. Just being a big baby.

But then he heard another sound. Ok, maybe that  _wasn't_ his imagination. Daniel sat up, letting his sheets pool around his waist and he rubbed his eyes free of tiredness and listened.

Another sound. Quiet, like a whimper. Daniel stood from his bed, shuffling a few steps towards the door. He had his suspicions and his nerves were getting on edge. There was definitely noise. And if it wasn't him then it was…

A shout, loud and illegible, rang through the apartment and Daniel had raced to the door and thrown it open before the shout had even finished. It took him only seconds to reach Jack's door. He threw it open and a small part of Daniel took a moment to sigh. Couldn't the world give this kid a break?

Jack was tossing and turning in his bed. The sheets were tangled around his flailing limbs as he thrashed, tears and sweat running down his face and his mouth open in endless shouts and screams.

Daniel knew the signs of a nightmare well. He ran over, dodging small fists to grab Jack's wrists and pin them to the bed on either side of his head. "Wake up Jack!" Daniel shouted over Jack's cries. "Wake up kid!"

Jack didn't wake. But at the sound of another voice, his thrashing eased, legs still flailing but now not in danger of kicking Daniel and injuring him. Seeing this, Daniel quickly pulled Jack to sit up, slid in behind him in bed and gathered Jack in his arms. He gently rocked back and forth, whispering in Jack's ear pleads for the boy to wake. Jack calmed at these tender whispers, sitting still in Daniel's arms before he woke up in an instant. With a gasp, Jack's eyes flew open and he was fighting to get out of the arms that were caging him in. Keeping him trapped. He thrashed and fought and wiggled. Cause he had to get out. They were coming for him. They'd hurt him if he didn't get out. They'd make him hurt, so he fought. Get out. Get out. Get out get out get out get out get out. He felt one of his cage arms leave and he fought harder. Had to get out. But then he felt something. A hand running through his hair. And suddenly, Jack knew. And he relaxed instantly, burrowing into Daniel's chest as he cried.

Daniel sighed in relief. Thank god. He continued to rock the now fully awake Jack in his arms for a few more moments. The boy snuggled himself into Daniel's chest, hiding his face as tears slid silently down his red cheeks.

"What was your nightmare about?" Daniel whispered after he'd built up the courage to ask.

"People who hurt," Jack sniffled, sounding like the young boy he truly was. He hadn't even gone to school, he was still a toddler and now Daniel truly saw that as he glanced down at the brown hair he was running his hand through.

"Hey Jack," Daniel whispered. "Y'know the people that… hurt… They won't hurt you anymore."

Daniel felt Jack stiffen in his arms. "I won't let them," Daniel vowed as he placed his hands under Jack's legs and stood, hefting the boy into his arms as he walked out the room.

"I won't let them," Daniel repeated as they made their way into Daniel's room and sat on the edge of the bed.

"As long as I'm here Jack," Daniel spoke as he twisted his legs onto the bed and laid down, resting Jack on his chest. "As long as I'm here they can't hurt you anymore."

Daniel left the statement hanging in the air and just listened. Listened to Jack's breathing even out, signalling his closeness to the land of sleep. Listened to the sound of New York outside his window. Listened to the sound of his heartbeat, its thumping lullaby lulling Jack into sleep.

"Will you sleep now Jack?" Daniel whispered, needing to know if they boy will be alright.

A moment of silence and stillness and Daniel's heart was ready to break. But then he felt a slow nod of a head against his chest and a whisper of words across his heart. "Yes," Jack answered as his eyes drifted shut. "Here… safe place." Jack snuffled at the end of the last word as he finally drifted off in the arms of Morpheus. Daniel was quick to follow.

And so they slept. The man and the boy. The teenager and the toddler. The illusionist and the sleight. They slept cuddled up together, shielding each other from bad dreams as they were finally able to sleep peacefully.

It's a habit that they probably wouldn't end up breaking for many years...

A habit that they never would...


	8. School

A week had passed since the night when their arrangement began. The arrangement being that they sleep in the same bed, Jack curled up on Danny's chest, the constant heartbeat lulling the broken boy to sleep. One week of peaceful nights and peaceful days, time spent egging Jack out of his shell. Showing him the world he'd missed. Showing him the world could be trusted.

Or at least… It  _was_  peaceful.

"But why d'ya have to go?" Jack whined.

"Because it's school and I have to go," Daniel sighed, looking down at the boy.

It was Sunday morning in the apartment and Daniel had just sprung the news on Jack that he was returning to school by pulling his backpack and books out of his cupboard.

"But why?" The incessant question was already starting to bug Danny.

"Because it's Sunday morning and school starts on a Monday," Daniel sighed. "I've already had too much time off. I have to go back kid."

"But what's gonna happen to me?" Jack asked with a child like curiosity. For years he'd acted older than his age to survive his hardships, but it was as though the minute he didn't have to be old anymore, he wasn't.

"I'm gonna leave you with Mrs. Wallace. She'll look after you during the day and I'll come get you from next door when I get home from school."

"But why?" Daniel was ready to tear his hair out.

"Because I need to go to school so I can get an education and a good job and a good career," Daniel explained, before noting the lost look on Jack's face at the use of the word 'education'.

Daniel frowned for a moment, a hand springing up to grasp his chin as he thought. "You should go to school," he said finally.

The reaction was instant.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!

"Yes!"

"No!"

"You're going to school Jack!" Daniel shouted and winced as he saw Jack imperceptibly flinch at his raised voice. Daniel sighed and gave Jack an apologetic smile.

"Why?" Jack asked quietly, looking up at Daniel with his big, brown eyes.

Daniel was silent for a moment before he dropped to his knees before Jack and lifted his chin with a crooked finger, his other hand rising to the all too familiar place in Jack's brown locks.

"Because I want you to be happy Jack," Danny told the boy wistfully.

"I won't go," Jack stamped his food in indignation. He didn't wanna go!

"I want the best in life for you Jack," Daniel continued, ignoring the boy's protests. "And going to school, that'll help you to get the best in life."

"No it won't!" Jack shouted, moving away from Daniel. "It won't! It won't! It won't!"

Jack continued on and on and finally, Danny couldn't take it.

"You're going to school Jack and that's final!" he shouted loudly, stepping towards Jack as he did so.

Jack's sharp intake of breathe shocked Danny from his sudden state of anger. He'd never snapped at Jack before. Never. He'd never snapped at anyone… How could he do that to Jack?

"Jack…" Danny hurriedly said, holding his hands up as he moved closer to the kid. But he was too late.

Too quick for him to even really process, Jack had raced away from his, out the bedroom, down the hallway, into the lounge and to the door. By the time Danny reached the lounge room, the front door had been long since slammed shut.

But Daniel ripped it open anyway, tearing down the corridor and racing down the stairs. He reached the ground floor just as the buildings front doors swung shut.

Daniel ripped them open, bursting onto the sidewalk which was filled with people, searching left and right with eyes for the all too familiar head of brown hair.

"JACK!" Daniel yelled, earning himself strange looks from the people who walked by him. "JACK!"

But Jack didn't answer. Jack was nowhere to be seen. And Daniel was left to resign himself to a sad and unfortunate fate.

He wouldn't be able to fins jack unless Jack wanted him to.

He was a sleight after all.

 


	9. Trust

Daniel sat with a blank face with his back to the couch. It had been hours since Jack had run off. Since he'd yelled. Since he'd made Jack run away from him in fear. He'd looked for two and a half hours for the boy. His search had been unsuccessful. He trudged back to the apartment with an empty hand and a heavy heart.

How could he have done that? How could he have done that to such a  _broken_  little boy?

Daniel barely heard the shuffle of light feet by the door four hours after he'd returned from searching. And he barely heard the light scratching of metal at the door.

He did though, hear the creak of the door as it swung slowly open.

Daniel's head snapped up though he stayed where he was. His eyes flickered quickly to the door, before sliding down to Jack's height, looking for any sign of the boy round the door frame.

A flash of brown. One small hand followed by another. Jack's young and innocent face.

"Jack," Daniel whispered, his voice hoarse from hours of yelling and dis-use.

"Jack," he said again as said boy entered the apartment, tucked somethin gin his pockets an d closed the door behind him. He edged warily away from the door and towards the lounge room where Daniel still sat. Or had sat at least.

As soon as Jack had shuffled away from the door, Daniel launched himself at the boy. He quickly scrambled to his feet and took a few steps before falling to his knees in front of the boy and drawing him into his arms. He ignored the ever present flinch Jack gave when touched by another and hugged the boy tight. He didn't ignore though, the small whimper that escaped Jack's lips as Daniel squeezed him in a tight hug.

Daniel pulled Jack away from his chest immediately.

"What was that?" he asked in a panic as Jack stayed completely silent, looking down at his shoes. "Are you hurt? Where are you hurt? Are you alright Jack?"

Jack stayed stubbornly silent and Daniel's panic increased tenfold.

"Are you alright Jack?!" he nearly yelled, hands tightly grasping Jack's shoulders, restraining the urge to shake and answer from the boy. Jack had to be alright. He just had to be.

"I'm fine," was the small reply that came a few moments later and Jack's gaze stayed fixed on his feet as he kicked one into the ground.

Daniel shook his head even as he sighed. Response: good. Wincing: not good.

"No you're not Jack. Where're you hurt?" Daniel asked, bending to stare into Jack's eyes, not willing to feel the flinch that would occur should Daniel use his hand to lift Jack's chin.

"Nowhere," Jack immediately replied.

"Liar," Daniel scoffed. "Where are you hurt?"

"I'm not-"

"Save it Jack!" Daniel shouted. "I spent hours looking for you and wondering if you were alright and if you were even going to come home." He shook his head as his voice shook and tears filled his eyes un-bidden.

"I promised to look after you and this it. I'm sorry I shouted at you but right now… I  _need_  to help you." Daniel looked straight into Jack's eyes again, letting the boy see the fear in them, intertwined with the sorrow he'd been feeling in Jack's absence. "So tell me… Where are you hurt?"

"… My back…" Jack finally mumbled sighing as the words left him, just knowing he'd lost the battle with Daniel.

"Let's take a look then," said Daniel as he went to spin the boy around, hands aiming for the hem of Jack's shirt. He really shouldn't have been surprised when Jack skittered away from him.

"No!" Jack yelled as he scrambled away, pressing his back to the wall by the door.

Daniel sighed and closed his eyes tightly. He was beginning to feel his youth again, the true measure of his immaturity shining through as he struggled to deal with what Jack's actions were telling him.

He carefully but quickly chose his words.

"I won't judge you. I promised to look after you. You're hurt and I need to look after you, just like I promised. But I can't do that Jack if…" Daniel sighed, upset. "I can't do that if you don't trust me."

And with that Daniel walked away, a lone tear forging a path down his cheek as he walked to his room, closing the door behind him and sitting on his bed as he practices his magic tricks.

He needed Jack to trust him. He didn't mind waiting.

It was 30 minutes later when Daniel's bedroom door swung open and Jack stumbled in with the bathroom's first-aid kit held in his small grasp. He made his way into the room, pushing the door shut with his foot as he walked to the bed and after placing the kit up there, hopped up beside it, facing the window. Daniel sat with his back against the headboard, watching Jack and saying nothing. This was Jack's call, not his. He was simply there to wait for Jack to make his move.

Jack did so brilliantly.

"I trust you," the words fell quietly from Jack's mouth and hung in the silence of the room. But they were enough to move Daniel into action.

Shuffling forward, he reached for the first-aid kit and opened it up, pulling out the supplies he's suspect he'd need. All the while, Jack spoke.

"I was running," he began. "And I bumped into this guy. He-uh… He didn't like that. Slammed me against a wall a few times. He made me  _hurt_. I didn't like it."

As Jack fell silent, Daniel but the bullet and drew up the back of Jack's shirt, pulling it over his head to expose his back.

A few long scrapes covered layers upon layers of long, straight, silvery scars. Scars of Jack's hurts. Scars of his past. Scars that Daniel wished he could un-see, but they were a part of Jack. And there wasn't a single thing about Jack that Daniel would willingly ignore.

"No more," Daniel breathed out as he gently placed a hand on a clear patch of Jack's back, up by jis scrape-free shoulders. "No more, alright Jack?"

Jack stayed silent.

"I trust you." The words were music to Daniel's ears and he sighed in silent relief as he unpacked an alcohol wipe.

"Now this is gonna sting a little…"


	10. Sickness

When Jack woke up at 3 AM, he thought for a single moment that everything was alright. That everything was right in his tiny world. But then the moment passed and Jack realised that everything was not alright. Daniel was hot. Too hot. Unusually so. Every night he slept curled up on Daniel's chest, listening to the familiar heartbeat and being soothed by the heat from Daniel's skin. He knew the heat from Daniel's skin. Daniel's body was too warm.

Sign number two that something was wrong came but a moment later. Jack quickly scrambled out from under Daniel's arm and dropped to the floor. Daniel didn't move once. Daniel who woke when he flinched as the stirrings of a possible nightmare didn't wake when Jack clearly moved.

His distress rising, Jack ran to the bathroom, throwing open the door and diving for the cupboard under the sink. He pulled out the green plastic first-aid kit and rummaged through it with shaking hands till he found the thermometer that had been used on him the few times he'd been sick since he found himself in Daniel's care. Jack quickly raced back to Daniel and scrambling up onto the bed, placed the thermometer in Daniel's mouth. The teenager stayed asleep as the display showed Jack the horrid truth.

98\. 99. 100. 101. 102. 103.

103 was the number it hauntingly stayed at and Jack looked to the box in his hand and the small temperature guide that lay in the side. Tears filled his eyes. 103 was far too high.

Jack's shaky hand withdrew the thermometer from Daniel's mouth and it remained in his tight grasp as his hands withdrew back to his chest, curling his body over and pushing his head down. Vaguely, Jack heard the sounds of harsh and quick breathing but he couldn't bring himself to see where it was coming from, too caught u in his own panic to even realise that those breaths were his.

Where was he gonna go? The question ran through his mind frantically, over and over, getting louder each time. How was he gonna live? What was he gonna do? He was going to have to go back out on to the streets. Daniel was dying and Jack would have to leave. Return to the cold and the hurt. He'd have to break a promise to Daniel: steal to survive.

And what about Daniel's promise? Daniel had promised to look after him and make sure he wasn't hurt anymore and promised to look after him and promised him he'd have a home.

But, Jack harshly reminded himself as tears ran down his cheeks through clenched eyes, Daniel would be dead… it was difficult to keep a promise when you were dead.

_Dead._

The word has Jack springing away from Daniel's too warm body, imaging for an instance that the body was to stone cold. Jack ran to the corner of the room, curling into himself and sliding down to sit on the floor, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees where his head rested. He didn't look at Daniel as he cried and sobbed.

* * *

When Daniel first attempted to open his eyes, the only thing he could do was groan with a tired and sore throat. His eyelids were heavy and his head pounded. God… why him? Light seeped through his closed eyes and intensified the pain. In an attempt to block out the light, Daniel turned over, flopping gracelessly onto his stomach to hide his face from the light. Lying on his stomach was a comfortable way for Danny to sleep, though it was something he hadn't done since Jack had begun staying with him… Speaking of…

Daniel frowned, the movement hurting his head, where was Jack? If Jack had still been in his ever present place on Daniel's chest, he would've been crushed as Daniel had turned over. So where was he? Daniel pushed himself up, groaning as pain raced down his spine as the small movement caused his head to spin. Great… Daniel hated being sick.

Daniel looked around the room, searching for Jack and did a small double take when he noticed Jack in the corner. He turned himself over again so he could sit up as he croaked out a question to Jack. "What are you doing?"

There was silence for a few moments, the only real sounds being the traffic outside and the sniffling of both Jack and Daniel. But then Jack slowly lifted his head to reveal red and puffy eyes as he spoke in a tiny and defeated voice. "You're dying."

"I'm what?" The question was out of Daniel's mouth before he could stop it, the tone of the question confused and… confused.

Jack didn't offer a worded answer, simply choosing to stand slowly, shuffle his way to Daniel's side and hand over the object clutched in his hands.

It took Daniel's eyes a moment to focus on what he was seeing and when his double vision faded he clearly saw the thermometer and it's read out. 103… Crap.

"Kid," Daniel sighed, closing his eyes in a mix of tiredness, frustration and sympathy. "I'm not dying anytime soon. I'm just sick."

"You're breaking your promise. You're leaving me. You're dying." Jack's words were near hysterical and Daniel could only imagine how long Jack had had to go over the scenario in his head. To convince his tiny young mind that the simple matter of being sick would bring about his death.

Daniel sighed again.

"Up you get kid," Daniel said as he reached out and lifted Jack up, hauling him forwards to sit on his lap. Jack went without a protest, his legs landing on either side of Daniel as his head was pushed down to rest on a shoulder and a nimble hand started to card through his hair. Unbidden, a tear fell down his cheek as he listened to Daniel's next words.

"Don't worry Jack. I'm fine. I'm just sick kid. It's a thing that happens and I'm definitely not going to die. My promise isn't going to be broken today kid."

The mantra was followed by a small string of muttered sweet nothings, the effort of speaking and holding Jack becoming too much for Daniel in his weakened state. Without a word to Jack, he laid down on his side, turning Jack over so his back rested against Daniel's front as they lay. It took only seconds for Daniel to fall asleep, Jack curled up next to him.

Begrudgingly, it took Jack only minutes to follow his lead, slipping into slumber with a frown as he clenched a hand around Daniel's wrist, fingers staying astutely in that particular spot even in sleep.


	11. Cooking

" _Instant Pancakes available at a store near you for the cheap price of only $2.89!"_

The ad for the pancakes played loudly in the apartment while Jack and Danny ate their takeaway. Chinese takeaway as it was Jack's turn to choose and the boy just couldn't resist fried rice and prawn crackers.

"Mm neber had mamabes bebore." Jack's words are muffled and illegible through his mouth full of fried rice and Danny laughed, nearly choking on his own sweet and sour pork.

"What?" he finally chuckled out after quickly swallowing to avoid being choked to death.

Jack swallowed his large mouthful and gulped loudly before he repeated, "I've never had pancakes before."

Danny raised an eyebrow in chock as he turned his head to look down at Jack. "Haven't you?"

"Nope," Jack shook his head.

"Hmm," Daniel said, reaching his hand to grab more food. "I promise we'll make some soon."

* * *

Later that night, Jack and Daniel lay in their bed. Jack rested peacefully on top of Daniel's chest and Daniel himself slept soundly, the rising and falling motion of his chest keeping Jack in his peaceful sleep.

Or at least it should've.

A flinch, nearly imperceptible, but it was still there, ran through Jack's body. It was small and the boy himself didn't feel it as his eyes screwed shut, preparing themselves for a nightmare. Jack had no idea what was coming for him.

But Daniel did.

The small flinch was enough. Daniel's eyes snapped open, immediately drifting down to his chest to look at Jack. He easily saw the first signs of a nightmare.

Hefting himself up, Daniel sat, an arm coming up to keep Jack held to his chest as the other reached for Jack's head. His fingers began the all too familiar motions of running through Jack's hair and Jack's head unconsciously tilted, pressing himself into the contact.

"Wake up kiddo," Daniel whispered softly into Jack's ear. "Wake up."

Jack's eyes slowly flickered open and Daniel sighed in relief. Another nightmare successfully averted.

Jack, whose eyes still showed the drowsiness from his recent sleep, yawned before shifting his head to rest more firmly against Daniel's chest. "Sorry," he whispered quietly, shifting his head to and fro as an offer of apology to Daniel.

"Don't worry 'bout it," Daniel accepted the apology with ease and ruffled the boy's hair before drawing him into a tight hug.

They stayed like that for a while, Jack slowly waking up from his sleep and Daniel holding the boy close. At least until Jack's stomach let out a very loud rumble.

Daniel laughed and Jack couldn't help but start giggling a few moments later.

"Tell me Jack," Daniel began as he stood, keeping Jack in his arms. "Would you like some pancakes?"

The reaction was instantaneous. Jack let out yell of excitement and wriggled his way out of Daniel's grasp, hitting the floor with his socked feet and setting off at a sliding run to the kitchen. Daniel followed laughing his head off, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he did so, typing into Google two simple words.

_Pancake recipe_

* * *

An hour later sees Jack sat on the top of the kitchen bench happily munching his way through a chocolate chip cookie. Also covered in flour and dried egg.

To be fair, the kitchen didn't look much better.

Pans and bowls were strewn all across the benches, everything coated with flour, dried egg and pale mixture.

There was a gloop of pancake mess stuck to the ceiling, ominously dripping onto the floor every few seconds.

And in the centre of it all sat Daniel and Jack, munching on their cookies, looking n better than the kitchen.

Jack swallowed his mouthful of cookie and said, voice filled with snark, sarcasm and cheek, "Thanks for the pancakes."

"Oi!' Daniel shouted, hands placing his cookie down on the bench in favour of reaching out and tickling Jack's sides. Jack squirmed with delight and laughter filled the small apartment, coming both from Jack and Daniel.

Eventually, Daniel's hands slowed and pulled Jack closer to him, the height of the bench allowing Jack to sit in front of Daniel with his back to Daniel's chest, head resting comfortably just under Daniel's chin. Daniel simply held Jack like this, comfortable and secure, as the young boy ate his cookie, unaware of the whirlwind tearing its way through Daniel's head.

"I love you," Daniel whispered, so quietly it was barely heard as he planted a kiss on the back of Jack's head.

There was silence as Jack finished his cookie, brushing his hands free of crumbs before he spun around and threw himself on Daniel, hands clinging tightly to each other behind Daniel's neck. His head burrowed its way into Daniel's neck where he whispered against the skin softly.

"I love you too."


	12. Familiar

"THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT!"

The words were followed by an outbreak of applause that lasted for several minutes and was loud enough to deafen the patrons of the theatre an d the performers on the stage. Specifically, J. Daniel Atlas, who stood proudly in the middle of the stage with his hands in the air and an easy smirk on his face.

His last show of his first year of professional magic had just drawn to a close and as the audience drew an end to their ovation, the grand showman left the stage.

He had done a lot in the last three years. Finished school, made a career… gained a family. The thought had a soft smile growing on his face as he left the wings of the theatre and headed to the bustling depth of backstage.

"Hey watch it!" he snapped at two backstage crew who bustled by him with some of his equipment, damn near knocking it into a wall as they did so.

"Sorry Mr. Atlas," the superior of the two quickly apologised and they more carefully, continued on their way.

"You don't have to be so mean y'know."

The voice from behind him had Danny spinning around. Henley Reeves smirked at him in amusement. He was such a control freak.

"Henley," Daniel greeted his 'assistant' who was still dressed in her tiny, sparkling outfit.

"How does it feel?" Henley asked. "Finishing your first year?"

"Good," Daniel quickly answered. "It feels good."

"Just good?" Henley asked. "You certain you aren't feeling… anything… more than good?"

Daniel smirked at her, an amused glint in his easy. "Goodnight Henley."

Henley sighed slightly, though the smile remained on her face. "Night Danny."

She turned from the man and walked away, stopping by her tiny side-stage dressing room to change from her show outfit which she carefully hung up on the outside of her door. Opening up her expensive, designer leather bag, she shuffled the multiple pairs of handcuffs out the way to pull out her black slacks, white shirt and black blazer.

She quickly pulled the pieces on, sweeping her red hair out of her collar when she was done before carefully pulling on her pair of leather gloves, the tight feeling of warmth around her palms a great comfort.

Gathering her stuff back into her bag, Henley left her dressing room, heading back to the main part of back stage to grab one last thing - her robe - before she headed out.

It was at her space in side of stage that she heard it. An excited shout which had her head cocking to identify its source. It took her no time at all to spot the brown haired boy running from the back door and barrelling… straight into J. Daniel Atlas's waist.

Henley expected a shout. A 'watch-where-you're-going-kid' or something along those lines.

The smile, hair ruffle and laugh didn't even cross her mind.

She watched in mild amazement as the small boy drew his head away from its place, buried in Daniel's chest and looked up in wonder at the man. Small arms clung round Danny and seemed to never want to let go. In turn, Danny had one arm around the boy's shoulders and the other resting on the boy's hair.

The boy said something to Danny, excited and fast-paced and Danny laughed in turn, replying to the boy in a much calmer tone with a genuine smile on his face.

Not the cocky smirk that adorned it so often, Henley realised. But a real, genuine, soft and heartfelt smile on those handsome features.

The sight made Henley smile her own real, genuine smile, confused at the proceedings though she was, and feeling like she'd intruded on a private moment, Henley quickly grabbed her robe and headed to the stage door.

Even as she entered the brisk night, thankful for her warm gloves, she couldn't help but shake the feeling.

The brown-haired boy…

He seemed oddly…

Familiar.


	13. Card - J. Daniel Atlas

Monday night in Chicago, the apartment door of J. Daniel Atlas flew open as two people stumbled in, kissing.

"I am your biggest fan," the dark haired girl told Daniel as she tugged and pulled at his jacket.

"I can tell," he replied between kisses as he pulled the last sleeve of his jacket off. "By the way you're attacking my face right now."

The pair cleared the apartment door and Daniel reached back with a hand to close it. As soon as pulled the door shut, the girl spun him around. "My magician," she purred. "Come here." With a single move she ripped her dress open, leaving her in her bra and underwear, and launched herself at Daniel, pushing them backwards to fall onto the sofa.

"Whoa," Daniel said, out of shock from the move and the sight of the very hot girl above him.

"Wait," she panted, pushing herself up from Daniel's chest and settling over him, a finger going up to his lips to silence him as she spoke. "How did you do that seven-"

"The seven of diamonds on the side of the tower?" Daniel finished quickly, the girl slurring to slow for his liking.

"Yes," she confirmed excitedly.

"That's a trade secret," Daniel informed her quickly before trying to sit up and reach her.

"Uh ah," she warned, pushing him back down again and he sighed, shifting himself under her.

"I'll give you a hint," Daniel told her. "It involved bribing the tower electrician."

"How much?" she asked, leaning down slightly, but not far enough.

"Uh, 50 bucks."

"So hot, "she told him, pulling his sweater off and Daniel quickly thanked her.

"Thank you."

"Is it always a seven?" she asked.

"I can do that trick 52 different way," Daniel told her and in response, she leant back sultrily.

"Can you do 52 different tricks on me?" she asked, a purr to her voice.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Ooh, Magic Man," she dived down to land on Daniel's chest, kissing and sucking at his neck and Daniel gasped slightly, kissing her bare shoulder once before something behind her caught his eye.

The girl moaned loudly as she continued to kiss at Daniel's neck, grinding and writhing on top of him, though his gaze remained fixed on the card he could see peeking out of one of his shoes.

"Whoa," he told her. "Hold on."

She came up for air, swiping her long hair out of her face. "What?" she asked and in response Daniel used a hand to push her off him, off the sofa and onto the floor where she landed with a thud and a squeal.

"You need to leave," Daniel told her as he shuffled along his couch to reach the card.

"Are you kidding me?!" the woman cried out indignantly.

"Oh my god," she complained as he pulled herself up from the floor. Daniel, ignoring her, jumped over the back of the sofa and grabbed the card from.

"Is this what you do?" she continued. "Some kind of sick trick you do to women?"

Daniel flipped the Lovers tarot card over to read the back. And address below and eye.

**MARCH 29**

**4:44 PM**

**45 EAST EVAN ST**

**NY, NY**

"Bring them back to your place and then, just humiliate them?!" the girl continued to screech.

"East Evan Street," Daniel muttered before he waved a hand in the girl's general direction, which appeared to be by the door.

"Don't worry," he said still looking at the card. "I'll call you."

"You don't have my number," the woman whipped round to face him, arms clutching her undone dress around her body.

"I'm magic," Daniel finally paid her a glance. "I'll find it. Have a goodnight."

"You are such an asshole!" she insulted him with venom in her voice before she stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her with such a force that it bounced off the frame and remained swinging open.

"I knew you weren't good with the ladies," a familiar voice called from the doorway. "But did you have to be so bad that she almost broke the door?"

"You're back late," Daniel informed Jack Wilder as he entered the apartment, shutting the door behind him. Daniel's eyes still remained locked on the card in his hand.

"I was out," Jack shrugged, pulling his ever present leather jacket off and chucking it on the sofa.

10 years had passed since he's begun his new life with Daniel, and the kind years had paid off. Jack was once skinny and underweight, nearly starving. But he had long since lost the outlines of his bones, food taking away the skeletal outline of his ribs and spine. He built up a small amount of muscle, not enough to be considered buff, but enough to be able to hold his won in a fight. 10 years since he'd left the streets and he was still plagued by the paranoia and the habits. His face, once haunted by memories and ghosts, was shining with a healthy light and a well-worn smirk was found on his now handsome features, a smile that he now wore s often it was second nature.

Daniel remained silent after Jack's statement and the smile dropped from Jack's face to be replaced with a frown. Daniel was overprotective and smothering. Had been since he'd found Jack and despite Jack's protests, it was a habit that Daniel had never dropped.

So when Daniel did not immediately question Jack on his whereabouts and reasoning of being late, Jack was, needless to say, suspicious and worried.

"I was out pick pocketing the locals," Jack drawled, taking a step closer to Daniel. "Drinking in bars."

Daniel remained silent and now Jack knew something was definitely troubling the man. If there was a single thing Jack could never do, it was drink. He was 17. Underage. And Daniel never let him forget it. If he so much as looked at a bottle of beer, Daniel would whack him on the head.

Jack huffed in irritation, a continuing act of childish behaviour that he would deny to his grave. He acted childishly a lot. Not that he was aware of it. He was always clued in when a) Daniel laughed or b) smiled the smile that he so often did when he looked at Jack.

"Just what are you looking at?!" Jack asked in irritation as he stormed over to Daniel and ripped the card from his hand, an action that drew an immediate protest from Daniel.

"Hey!"

Jack's eyes quickly ran themselves over the surface of the card. Then he did it again to make sure. Then again just to be certain.

"But-but," Jack stuttered his grip on the card loosening enough for Daniel to rip it out of his hands. "That's the Eye."

"I have to go," Daniel told Jack as he set off into the depth of the apartment, heading to the single bedroom with its two beds that he and Jack shared. He pulled a messenger bag out from the bottom of the cupboard and quickly began chucking supplies into it. Things he would need for his short trip to New York.

"So," Jack wandered into the room, grabbing his own messenger bag out from under his bed. An item that he was given by someone very kind and had cherished from the moment it was dropped into his hands. "What am I gonna need to pack?"

"Pack?" Daniel asked confused before it clicked and Jack could see the shift in Daniel's eyes. "No no no no no no! You're not coming with me!" Daniel had turned to face Jack, bag still in one of his hands, the other pointing at the teenager.

"Why not?" Jack immediately questioned, trying as he ever did, to win against Daniel's smother-hen routine.

"Cause it could be dangerous," Daniel immediately began, moving around to continue his task as he lectured Jack.. "And you didn't get a card and it could be dangerous and you could get in trouble and it could be dangerous."

"But Danny!" Jack pleaded, whine in his voice as he followed Daniel out the room, back towards the main living space of the apartment.

"No Jack!" Daniel snapped back at the boy, turning his head to face the boy with a fierce look plastered across his features. Jack stared back for a single moment, defiant, before with a sigh he trudged to the sofa and plopped down on it.

Danny paid him no mind and left the room to grab just another thing before he re-entered the lounge to pack it into his bag. He looked at Jack, on the sofa, and a chuckle spilled from his lips. He couldn't help it. It was just so damn funny.

"What?!" Jack snapped, annoyed at everything… and now Danny was laughing. Great. "What's so funny?!"

"Nothing," Danny shook his head, shouldering his bag. "You just uh… got a little pout there."

"Do not!"

Danny ignored Jack's shout, walking over to the teen, talking as he did so.

"Feed yourself," Danny instructed, tone of his voice indicating a list was about to be made. Jack sighed. "No stealing, no drinking, no annoying anybody, no getting arrested, no getting into trouble, no going into pubs and just  _stay out of trouble_."

Jack sighed, and Daniel was in front of him now. "Don't follow me," Daniel instructed, hand reaching and ruffling Jack's hair. "I'll call you after I get there," Daniel told Jack as he leaned forward and placed a kiss on the boy's head. "Stay safe," Daniel said finally, speaking into the brown locks of the boy he loved so dearly.

"I'm not a kid anymore," Jack told Daniel in a petulant voice as the elder stepped away from him.

Daniel laughed, "Sure you're not," eager to prove appoint. He put out his hand to ruffle Jack's hair again, carding his fingers through the locks. Jack, without realising, leaned into the touch as he'd always done.

"I prove my point," Daniel smirked, and Jack – who had realised what he'd done – immediately shifted away from Danny.

"See you later kid!" Daniel called over his shoulder as he left the apartment, shutting and locking the door behind him.

Not even a second after he'd heard the click of the door lock, Jack was on his feet, heading to the bedroom he shared with Danny to grab his beloved messenger bag. He paced around the room, grabbing the stuff he knew he'd need. Cards and wallet amongst other things, all jammed into the bag.

Bag all packed, Jack headed out into the main body of the apartment, switching off the appliances and lights as he walked by them. How about New York, he thought to himself as he pulled on his leather jacket, securely pulling his bag over his shoulder afterwards.

Jack opened the front door and grabbed his keys from their place by the door, stepping out into the hallway and closing the door behind him. Jack smirked to himself as his thoughts continued.  _I hear the people there are easy to fool_.


	14. Card - Jack Wilder

Standing on the shore of the water, Jack rifled through the contents of the wallet he had stolen from the man, pulling out the cash from inside it.

 _This is wrong_ , the voice in the back of his head spoke. A voice that sounded exactly like Danny's.  _You're breaking my rules_.

Shaking his head, Jack dismissed the voice, pocketing the cash from the wallet in an act of defiance. Daniel left him. Left him alone. Daniel abandoned him. He had the right to break the rules.

Jack caught himself, truly realising his thoughts and scoffed.

Daniel hadn't abandoned him. Daniel had saved him and was simply going away. And besides, Jack didn't depend on Danny like he did as a child. He no longer needed him to survive.

 _But you do_ , the voice whispered to him and Jack sighed and couldn't help the small smile that crept onto his face. He did, didn't he.

The thought, while lovely, saddened Jack and his smile dropped. It was sad, depressing even, to realise that his past scared and scarred him so much that he was truly dependant on someone when he was almost an adult.

But it didn't do jack any good to dwell on the past as Danny had told him so many times over the years. So again shaking his head, Jack patted his pockets to check that his things were still in there.

Cash. Check.

Watch. Check.

Deck of cards. Check.

Spoons. Check.

Mysterious piece of card. Check.

Wait…

Frowning, Jack checked his back pocket again. Sure enough, there was something in there. Head tilted in confusion, Jack reached into his pocket and pulled the object out of his pocket.

Not an object, he realised. A card. A  _tarot_  card.

Jack studied the front of the card, a skull hanging over the word 'DEATH'. It struck him with a barb, but then he turned it over. And smiled and laughed.

With a skip in his step he set off down the shore, the tarot card with the eye symbol held firmly in his grasp.

 _Finally_ , he thought with a grin on his face,  _I'm as good as Danny_.


	15. The Meeting of The Four Horsemen

"No way!"

The voice froze Danny in place, voice cutting off mid-way through his statement to the others about leaving. His entire body froze and it showed on his face, judging by Merritt and Henley's confused looks towards him. Danny wished and hoped that he was hallucinating, hoped with all his heart that the voice behind him wasn't real. But then it continued, and Danny filled with an emotion he couldn't name.

"J. Daniel Atlas," Jack continued, the sarcasm evident in his voice – oozing from it in fact – as he walked up the stairs to stand on the landing behind the others. He smirked at the sight of Danny's frozen, tense back and barely glanced at the other two people present. "I'm your number one biggest fan!"

Danny could name that emotion now. Anger. Frustration. Rage. He spun slowly to face Jack and his anger only increased as he looked at the boy's smirking face. "What. Are. You. Doing here?" Danny ground out through clenched teeth.

Jack smirked even more, an even bigger cheeky smile beginning to make its way onto his face as he  _swaggered_  closer to Danny. "Well…" he drawled. "You see what ha-"

"I told you not to follow me," Danny snapped, rounding on Jack and taking a step towards him, hands clenched in tight fists, knuckles white. "I specifically told you not to follow me Jack!" he almost shook with anger.

And Jack realised this.

"I didn't follow you!" he held his hands out in defence, taking a tentative step back. This wasn't what he'd had in mind. Behind them, Merritt and Henley exchanged odd looks. "I swear I didn't follow you."

"Then why are you here?!" Danny shouted, stepping closer to Jack still.

"I'm here because-"

But Danny didn't want to hear any of it, he was done. He grabbed Jack by the collar of his leather jacket and began to drag him towards the stairs. Jack dug his heels in, reaching flailing hands out to the banister at his side to anchor himself. Danny kept pulling.

"Let me go!" Jack shouted, desperately trying to keep his grip. It was a fact of annoyance, that no matter how strong Jack was… Danny always seemed to be just that little but stronger. "I'm here because-because-"

"Because what Jack?!" Danny asked from his place at Jack's side, where his grip had moved from around Jack's neck to the boy's wrist. "What possible reason do you have for being here?!"

"Because-I-have-a-card!" Jack wheezed out as he fought against Danny and when the words registered, Danny dropped Jack's wrist in shock; the boy falling to the ground on tired legs.

"You-you," Daniel stuttered, taking a few quick breaths. "You what?"

"Igotacard," Jack mumbled from the floor where he still sat, trying to regain feeling in his legs so he could stand up.

Danny was still in shock though. Or at least he was in something as far as Jack could tell. He quickly stepped over to Jack's side, bent and scooped him from the floor to stand in less than a second; hands gripping the boys shoulders. "Could you repeat that for me Jack?"

"I um," Jack looked down, unable to meet Danny's eyes. "I got a card. Like yours. But for me."

Danny just stared after Jack had finished talking, searching the face of the boy before him. He was silent as well, the whole hallway was; Henley and Merritt standing in silence by the locked door in front of them. It was tense, tight as a coiled spring was the air. Until it snapped.

"No," Daniel shook his head firmly. "Absolutely not."

"But Danny!" was the immediate and expected whine from Jack.

"No Jack," Daniel shouted at him and as he did, several things clicked in his mind.

One: Henley and Merritt were still standing behind them.

Two: Jack was in so much trouble.

And three… Jack got a card.

He got a  _card_.

"Show me," Daniel spoke and the change shocked Jack and unsettled him. He took a wary step back as Daniel held out a hand.

"Show me the card Jack!" Daniel ordered and hesitantly Jack reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out the tarot card.

Danny snatched it from Jack's and as soon as it was in sight and he held it up to his face, staring at it with interest.

Jack shuffled uncomfortably, confused, and behind Danny, so did their audience.

There was another moment of silence before Daniel huffed out a breath and - almost despite itself - a smile crept onto his face.

"Well done kiddo," he told Jack, his voice soft and Jack smiled in reply. It was a smile that sparked something in each of the brains of Henley and Merritt.

"So…" Jack rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet as he began to pose his question to Daniel. "Am I allowed to… y'know…. Be here?"

Daniel frowned, "You know I couldn't stop you even if I tried Kid. You're far too stubborn for that."

And without his usual reaction to the insult, Jack threw himself into Daniel and hugged him tightly, Daniel wrapping his arms around Jack tightly in return, hand moving to ruffe his hair. And from behind them, Merritt and Henley could just see the wide grin that Jack smothered in Daniel's shoulder.

"But you're still grounded," Daniel stated matter-of-factly.

The reaction was instantaneous.

"What?!" Jack exploded, leaping away from the elder magician. "But Danny that's not fair! I didn't do anything! You can't just ground me! It's not fair!"

Danny just laughed.

Jack groaned.

" _Danny!_ "

Danny could only smile at Jack in reply, moving his attention from the tantrum of his charge to the elder magicians y the door. Who were looking at them very strangely.

Merritt; knowing on his face.

Henley; a look on her face that suggested she was a bout to say something.

And she did.

"You're that kid from the show," Henley stated, pointing at Jack and interrupting him mid-whine. "The one I saw hug Danny," she specified and as she studied the boy further – double checking that she was in fact right (she was) – she couldn't help but feel another niggling of familiarity, but she couldn't for the life of her figure it out.

"Ok…" Jack and Danny both drawled and Merritt scoffed at that and the pair's attention snapped to the mentalist.

"Glad I was right about you," Merritt commented ambiguously, staring straight at Jack. Danny frowned at this, so did Jack; a spark of recognition flickering in his eyes. But he shook it off.

"Why are we standing outside anyway?" Jack asked, finally realising that they were standing outside the apartment they were meant to be meeting at.

Henley and Merritt supplied him his answer. "Door's locked."

Jack just smirked in reply and Daniel snorted. Jack shot a glare his way.

"Nothing's ever locked," he said as he turned his eyes from Danny – the elder rolling his eyes in exasperation – to the doorknob in front of him, crouching and picking at the lock with the lock picks he pulled out of thin air.

Within moments, the door swung open.

"Once more unto the breach?" Jack smirked at Daniel as he stood to the side of the door.

"Shut up!" Danny scolded, whacking Jack's head as he passed the boy to enter the apartment and rubbing at his hair, Jack followed.


	16. Worries

"I'm not ok with this," Daniel sighed, a hand rubbing at his forehead as though he could  _push_  his stress out of his brain.

They'd just witnessed something… magical.

The mysterious and magical blueprints of a show and a plan that would change their lives and take the world by storm.

But would also put them in danger.

And Daniel wasn't sure if the risk was worth the reward.

Not when the risk was so high.

"I am really not ok with you being involved in this Jack," Daniel shook his head as he spoke softly, looking into the eyes of his… well…  _his_  Jack.

Jack for his part had understanding in his eyes.

"I know your not," the teenager sighed. "But Danny…"

"I know," Daniel was quick to reply. And he did know.

He knew that this opportunity was once in a lifetime with promises galore at the end of the treacherous rainbow and no matter how much he hated it, a part of him was resigned to the fact that he couldn't say no.

Daniel looked away from his charge and glanced around the room, at Merritt who stood still examining the blueprints, at Henley who stood by him but was glancing at Jack with an odd expression every now and again.

As soon as the hype of their discovery had settled down, Daniel had dragged Jack aside to talk to him.

Because he was in no way ok with the idea of Jack being in any form of danger.

He said as much to Jack.

"This is dangerous Jack," he repeated again and Daniel could just see the effort Jack was putting in to suppressing his eye roll.

"So?" Jack asked. "This is The Eye, Danny. We can't say no to this."

"And look I know you don't like it," Jack continued. "Me being in danger. You hate it."

Daniel scoffed at that and Jack couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

And he was called the childish one!

"Remember the promise you made me?" Jack asked him and Danny scoffed again.

"Of course I do," he spoke softly. "How could I forget?"

"Exactly," Jack looked smug and pleased with himself. "That's why this is ok and why we're going to do this. Because you made me a promise that you'd never let me get hurt and that I'd always be safe."

Daniel's eyes softened at that and he couldn't help but sigh again as he took in the maturity of Jack's words; so strange amongst his childish behaviour.

"And I trust you," Jack continued. "And I believe you with all my heart. I  _know_  that you won't let me get hurt and that you would  _never_  put me in any form of danger unless it was absolutely necessary."

Daniel was silent in contemplation for a moment, before he shook his head whilst looking down with a smile.

"What?" Jack asked, voice both laughing and insulted.

"Nothing," Daniel chuckled, looking back up at the kid before him. "Just trying to figure out when you got so smart?"

"Hey!" Jack shouted insulted and Daniel couldn't hold back his laughter that time.

"Love you kid," Daniel said tenderly when his laughing died down.

Jack smiled back sheepishly but with warmth and love in his face and his eyes. "Love you too Danny."

"You sure that there's no chance I can convince you to go home?" Daniel asked in a last-ditch attempt to get Jack away from any and all potential danger.

"Not even a little one," Jack smirked and Daniel just sighed with a shake of his head.

Of course there wasn't…

They shared a moment of peaceful silence.

"…you're still grounded though."

"Oh c'mon!"


	17. Private Talks

Jack was expecting it to be honest.

But just because he was expecting it, didn't mean he wasn't a bit nervous about it.

So when the voice spoke from behind him where he stood leaning against the railing of the staircase outside the apartment – allowing Danny and Henley a chance to catch up because if they were going to do this they needed to get along – he was tense and apprehensive but ready…

…ish…

"I really am glad that I was right about you," the voice said and Jack turned his head slightly to look at Merritt who stood just behind him, before he returned his gaze to the winding view of the staircase.

"Right about what?" he asked quietly and stayed silent as he waited for his answer, and still as the mentalist crept forward to lean next to him against the rail; facing the wall at Jack's back.

"That you'd be alright," was the eventual reply and Jack frowned, confused at the words.

"When I first saw you in that park, I thought that you'd be destroyed in the system. Torn to shreds," Merritt explained and Jack glanced up at him again, an indescribable look on his face.

"What changed your mind?" the boy asked the man and Merritt glanced down to meet Jack's gaze.

"I saw you pick that man's pocket on your way out," he said and a chuckle escaped Jack, making a smile curve its way onto Merritt's face.

" _That_  is what made you think I would be ok?" Jack asked incredulously. "Watching me steal from someone?"

"Watching you steal  _successfully_ ," Merritt corrected and a puppy-dog like frown appeared on Jack's face and good god… this kid…

Merritt decided to elaborate for him.

"It takes a special kind of person to pickpocket – without being caught – in front of government officials and policemen."

"It takes an even special-er kind of abandoned, abused, injured, undersized, and malnourished kid to do the same," Merritt levelled Jack with a look as he spoke the words. Jack looked down uncomfortably in response.

"You're strong boy-o," Merritt smiled down at the top of the boy's head. "Stronger than most and stronger than you know."

"And look at you now!" he continued. "You're more than alright. And I couldn't be gladder."

"…why?" came the ever quiet question – meek and small. "Why are you glad that I'm ok? Why do you care?"

The question, though he should've really been expecting, knocked Merritt back and he frowned himself as he thought of the right answer to give to the kid; the most truthful he could manage.

"Why wouldn't I care?" he finally decided on and he could  _feel_ the tense of confused muscles beside him.

"Besides," Merritt continued, "you wouldn't be  _here_  if you weren't gifted with extraordinary talents. And anyone who is that  _special_  deserves to be cared about."

"How do you know that?" Jack asked, looking up again with a small hint of confidence in his eyes and a small sad smile to match it on his face.

Merritt smirked at him in return and clapped a hand down on his shoulder, ignoring the flinch and squeezing gently for a second.

"I'm a mentalist. I just  _know_."

And with that he pushed off and headed back to the apartment, hoping to catch the tail end of whatever fight Danny and Henley were having.

"Coming?" he called over his shoulder at the boy.

There was a moment of hesitation before a voice called back to him and feet could be heard moving to catch up.

"Don't be so impatient Old Man! I was just giving you a head start!"

A nimble body dodged the swipe that came his way as he easily overtook said 'Old Man'.

Merritt growled.

"Brat!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!  
> Welcome to 'Things That Are Broken'.  
> This was originally posted on FanFiction, but having got my Archive account today, I thought I would post it here as well.   
> Feel free to leave a comment or some kudos.  
> As I mentioned on FanFiction when I first started writing this, I am open and willing to take suggestions of drabbles or 'scenes' which you would like to see.  
> They can be at any point of Jack's life or Danny's life, or anything from the movie.  
> If you want to read it, feel entirely free to let me know.   
> I hope you like it.  
> Jessica - Jane
> 
> Also, my FanFiction account is (embarrassingly): Clemences-are-so-sexy  
> I have stories over there which I will most likely be posting on here, but pop over and have a look anyway. 
> 
> Au revoir mes amis!  
> :)


	18. Realisation

When realisation hit Henley, it did it in the way it was oh so fond of…

With the force of a semi-truck filled with anvils and concrete. 

The arrival of young Jack had thrown her for a minute, she’d never entertain the thought that an organisation like the Eye would select someone so young for anything.

What Danny had done had shocked her to her core. Never, in all the years she’d known him and worked with him, had she seen such a display. Such obvious anger… such affection.

It had been that which had sparked the memory in her mind; the memory of a small child running to Danny for a hug years and years ago. The affection on Danny’s face, the care he showed on both occasions…. _That_ had been what made her realise that this young man (teenager, really, if the way Danny was treating him was anything to go by) was that small boy from the backstage of Danny’s show.

But, she realised, as she watched Danny and Jack talking just at the edge of the room, there was still that niggling sensation of familiarity – more than what she already realised – that she couldn’t figure out.

Why was he _so_ familiar? Why did she feel like she’d seen him before, more than just once?

A laugh drew her from her musings, and her attention went to its source: Jack, smile on his face, pushing at Daniel as they made their way back to the centre of the room and the brilliance it held.

She kept her gaze on them a moment longer, watching Jack sling his bag off his shoulder and onto the floor, as they moved to study the set-up. She gave up a second later, and in her vacant studying of the room behind them, she almost missed it.

But she didn’t.

She didn’t miss it and the instant she realised she’d noticed it, she couldn’t take her eyes off it and that was when the Realisation Semi-Truck ran her off the road and sent her (and her mind) into a tail-spin.

_The bag._

With laser-focus, she took in that bag – scuffed, and faded, but exactly as she remembered it the day she’d bought it for the poor little boy, alone in Central Park.

It was _him_. The little boy grown. Jack.

She’d moved without realising, her mind to occupied with other realisations to comprehend the fact that not only had she crossed the room, but that she’d bent down to gingerly touch the straps of the bag she’d found that day in New York.

Vaguely, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a pair of jean-clad legs step slowly closer to her. She didn’t care. All her attention was on the messenger bag.

“You kept it,” she found herself whispering, almost in a daze as her hands cradled the straps she held. “All these years… you _kept_ it…”

The legs bent down, and lowered their owner to the floor. A hand reached out and, shaking just slightly, gently grasped hers.

“Of course I did,” Jack said, and Henley – with tears in her eyes that she didn’t realise had formed – looked up into the slightly pale face of a boy who – she distantly realised – she thought would have died long ago.

She could see it now. Those brown eyes, once so devoid of life, full of a light she could never have imagined. This was him, and he’d kept the bag she’d given him. The little face that had shocked her, gaunt and pale, and a body that looked close to starvation… she could see only the echoes of them in this young man before her.

“Why?” It was all she could say. The only fully-formed word that sprang to her lips when she opened her mouth to speak. It had been years ago, she _needed_ to know why he still had that bag – old, fraying, faded.

Jack froze, exhaling shakily, eyes dropping to the floor, and Henley feared she would never get her answer. Her own gaze dropped, past their clasped hands and the bag they held, to the sliver of floor she could see.

Jack squeezed her hand.

He ever so gently squeezed her hand in his grasp, and it was like Henley was 14 again; tenderly squeezing the hand of a lonely child in a park full of people who didn’t see him.

She lifted her eyes, and she met his, seeing the echoes of the past they both remembered, and something she would never be able to describe.

He bit his lip. “Because you were kind,” he finally said, and the band tightening around Henley’s heart exploded outwards, leaving her breathless. “You were kind,” he said again, tightening his grip on her. “And I wanted to always remember that.”

Shaky smile on her face and a single tear falling down her cheek, Henley turned her hand in his, and squeezed right back.

She had no words. Nothing she could ever say would be enough of a response to what Jack had just told her. Instead, she smiled, squeezed his hands, and hoped beyond hope that he could see and understand the incomprehensible message that showed in her eyes.

Pulling her hand away, she levered herself up with her hands on her knees, and she dropped the strap of the bag into the grasp of its owner. Composing herself in an instant, she turned her head and met the weight of Danny’s stare across the room. Understanding passed between them, and Henley turned to face the room – taking in Merritt, who was trying to seem as though he had politely left them to their private moment. Yeah right…

“So,” she said, clasping her gloved hands together. Realisation may hit with the force of a 40 tonne truck, but she was Henley Reeves. She wouldn’t let it keep her down for long. She smirked. “What’s next?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I'm sorry it took so long...I won't bore you with the details...hope you liked it...if anyone's still there...


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